The Manufactured Companion cover art

The Manufactured Companion

You wake with a past you never lived—and the jungle is the only one who knows.

You awaken on a corporate starship with memories of a childhood, a family, a home—all of it fabricated to prepare you for the ultimate expedition. As the prototype 'Companion' scout, you're the test subject for a simulated jungle planet designed to break you. But this world is more than a simulation: it's a crucible, and the only way out is to break the rules, find the real person buried beneath the lies, and survive the planet's deadliest secrets. A sci-fi survival adventure where identity is the greatest unknown.

The story begins

The hiss of the canopy gave way to your own ragged breath. Your palm was slick against the razorvine, and the cut on your forearm—a clean, straight gash—throbbed against the synth-skin that was already knitting it shut. Wrong. The scar should have been jagged, from a serrated leaf. But your memory of this exact branch, this exact stumble, showed a different wound. A deeper one.

You dropped from the tree and landed soft on the moss. The jungle hummed around you, a low, electric thrum that you felt in your teeth. Your implanted map told you the waypoint was a klick north. A clearing. A supply cache. Your chrono blinked: *T-MINUS 23:41:07.*

A flicker of light caught your eye—not bioluminescence. A rhythmic pulse, from a cluster of ferns. Monitoring station. You knew the protocol: mark it, avoid it, report it. But the pulse wasn't the steady beat of a corporate relay. It was irregular. Like a heartbeat in distress.

The chrono blinked again. The waypoint waited.

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What happens next is up to you.

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